Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 60, No. 1, July 4, 1931

A Daring Breakaway by James B. M. Clark

It is seldom that the officials of Sing Sing let a man slip through their fingers, but once in a while the impossible is achieved, and some criminal succeeds in making a get-away. The escape of two notorious crooks, Pallister and Rohlf, some years ago is possibly the most remarkable case in the annals of the institution in recent times.

Both had been condemned to die in the electric chair for the brutal murder of a farmer in a lonely district, a man who had shown them hospitality and whose kindness they had rewarded by killing him. But Pallister was a clever man, and in this desperate corner his wit did not desert him. Rohlf simply followed the lead of his chief.

The problem of a break at the out-. set looked hopeless. But they knew well enough there was no hope of a reprieve, and that their only chance of life lay in escape from the walls. In addition to the formidable bolts, bars, locks and walls of this renowned jail, extra guards had been placed on duty, on account of the bad records of the prisoners, and the fact that Pallister had once before succeeded in breaking out of a State prison. Nothing was being left to chance, and nothing seemed more certain than that the hours of the pair were numbered. But Pallister’s busy brain was always at work, and before the fatal day arrived he had concocted a scheme.

For some days in advance of the date on which the attempt was to be made Pallister played sick. On the night chosen for the attempt, at 10 P.M., he dressed underneath the bedclothes. Then he called out to the warder on duty. The warder immediately came to the spy-hole in the cell door and asked what the trouble was. Pallister explained that he was very sick with a dreadful pain in his stomach, and asked if it would be possible to get a glass of hot milk. As condemned men are generally humored, the warder consented to see what could be done and called to the guard stationed at the other end of the corridor to go and get the milk from the kitchen. The second guard went off, and after a short interval returned with the milk, which he gave to the guard who had called for it.

This guard unlocked the door and entered Pallister’s cell, whereupon Pallister, a powerful man, seized him by the throat in a terrible grip, preventing him from crying out and giving the alarm. Then he gagged him and bound him, and laid him on the bed, took the man’s keys, and, watching his opportunity, stole out into the corridor and released Rohlf and three other convicts in adjoining cells. Pallister had deemed it safer to take several other desperate men into their confidence so that, if it came to a fight with the guards, they would have plenty of forces. But once clear of the prison he meant to let these men shift for themselves.

By choosing their time carefully, the five were able to come unawares upon the warder at the end of the corridor, and had not much difficulty in overpowering him also. Yet although such a statement sounds simple the deed itself was not accomplished without extraordinary caution and care. Pallister had had to wait until this man had left his post for a few minutes before he could release Rohlf and the others, and after that the task of slipping along the corridor on stocking feet to catch the warder off his guard as he sat in his seat was in itself a task of the utmost nicety. A single slip meant disaster, for there were guards within hail and it was essential that the man be prevented from uttering a single cry. However, under Pallister’s guidance, the job was safely accomplished and the man securely bound and gagged.

The escaping prisoners now had all the necessary keys for the main doors of the prison, and Rohlf suggested that the simplest thing to do would be just to walk right out. But Pallister knew the danger of that. The chances of being able to carry out such a plan without encountering other guards were one in a hundred. The safer course, Pallister urged, was to climb out through a skylight on to the roof of the building and make their way from there to the street. A suitable skylight was selected, and the five clambered up without difficulty to the prison roof. They crossed several buildings and finally reached a point overlooking a quiet street, which seemed the most likely place to make their get-away. The sidewalk, however, was still twenty feet below, and as they had not thought to bring any sheets or blankets to use for ropes, there was nothing for it but to take a chance and drop. All five succeeded in making the jump safely, with the exception of Rohlf, who hurt his left arm rather badly.

The whole affair had been well timed and Pallister was certain their absence would not be discovered for several hours at least. As a matter of fact it was well into the small hours of the morning before the alarm was raised, and by that time the prisoners had scattered. Pallister and Rohlf kept together, and as the former knew the country well he was able to lead his friend without mishap to New York City, where a saloon keeper, who was under an obligation to Pallister, concealed them in his cellar.

The other three convicts, being strangers to that country, did not get very far and were recaptured without much difficulty.

All over the countryside the alarm was raised, pictures of Pallister and Rohlf appeared in all the newspapers, and a reward was offered for information that might lead to their arrest. They lay low in their cellar. The days went past without mishap, and by and by it was deemed safe to attempt to get Rohlf away. Accordingly he was decked out in an old suit of clothes that the saloon keeper procured for him and furnished with the outfit of a street peddler. In this guise he set out from New York into the country, and ultimately succeeded in making his way to Brazil, after which nothing further was heard of him. Pallister, in the meantime, continued to lie low in the cellar.

The hunt was still in full swing, and in spite of their failure to locate the men, the police had not slackened their efforts. Both were known to be desperate criminals and a menace to society.

The saloon keeper who had taken in the fugitives had not the best of reputations, and presently, in the combing of Pallister’s old haunts, the police decided to raid that particular place. Pallister was in bed in one of the attics of the house when the saloon keeper got word that the “bulls” were close at hand. He had just time to rush his friend down to the cellar again and get back to his front premises when the police entered. The saloon keeper protested against this, trying to give Pallister time to hide.

In the cellar were a number of barrels, some empty, others more or less full of water. Into one of the latter Pallister squeezed himself and waited, his head just above the surface of the liquid. The officers entered the cellar and proceeded to search it, tapping the floors and walls in their hunt for concealed trapdoors.

They moved the empty barrels and put their hands into the full ones. Finally a patrolman approached the barrel that held the escaped convict. It was a critical moment for Pallister. Taking a deep breath, he ducked his head as far below the surface as possible, and kept it there as long as he was able. The officer reached the barrel, inserted his hand, found water, and passed to the next barrel. In a few seconds they were far enough off so Pallister could bring up his head and take another breath, and presently they left the cellar and went upstairs again. Shortly afterward they left and Pallister crept from his hiding place shaking himself like a half-drowned dog.

And that was the closest the police ever came to the man they were after, for a few days later Pallister made his escape to Mexico.